As I watch my own daughters grow up, I’m reminded of the differences that seem inherent between an older and a younger sibling.  Through observations of my own family, my own experiences, and my very unscientific conclusions, my theory consists of a few hypothesis statements:

• The first-born takes on the mantle of being the responsible, serious family member.
• The second-born is a wildcard.
• Sibling rivalry is real

(Sorry, this theory doesn’t factor in any “middle” children.  The only thing I know about their situation is from my days watching the ‘Brady Bunch’, and it seems to be that all those problems are solved by wearing a brown wig, complaining loudly to anyone who will listen [“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!”], and getting a gold locket from the housekeeper – all in thirty minutes.)

But back to my theory.

I have observed that the first-born child seems to be more stoic, responsible, focused, and serious.  Perhaps this is because they feel a responsibility to carry on the family name, ensure that their parents know that they were successful in raising at least one child, or some other, unknown obligation.  They are meticulous planners.  I’m a first-born, and I certainly feel this way.  We follow society’s directions and rules (to the letter), make practical life decisions (i.e. career choices, saving for retirement, pay our bills on time, drive used cars, etc.), have few material needs, and are extremely pragmatic.  The oldest child will also usually have one specific “vice” that they will drop all of their self-imposed restrictions for (in my case it is travel and fine dining – my Achilles heel). 

My oldest daughter follows these rules (probably without realizing it).  She studies hard at school, has secured several part-time, local jobs (all within walking distance from home), saves her money and is not frivolous or flashy.  Her one vice?  Her computer.  She’s the kind of gal who will one day rent a small apartment and have a $30,000 workstation set-up in the bedroom (complete with production-grade video and audio recording equipment with top-of-the-line editing software) while she sleeps in the living room on a broken couch, eating hastily prepared meals off of the same three dishes and a chipped cup in her cabinet.  I can relate.

The younger sibling is more free-wheeling and care-free, has lots of friends, is very social, and generally lives in the moment.  They cause their parents countless headaches (through missed curfews, romantic interests, or other shenanigans), take life as it comes, and write their own rules.  My own brother is like this.  As an example, when we both lived in Florida, he quit his job, packed up his car (with a toddler and a pregnant wife in tow), and drove to California to start a new life – with no job, health insurance, or place to live even lined up.  Today, he is a successful freelance television writer/producer/editor (known as ‘predators’ in the biz), his girls are on track for their own successful careers, and he rubs shoulders with studio heads and celebrities.  He’s like ‘Kramer’ from the TV show ‘Seinfeld’.  No matter what happens to him, he finds a way to keep his life interesting and exciting – and always seems to find his way through any treacherous waters.

I see these same traits in my youngest daughter.  Even at sixteen (and getting ready to start her senior year in high school), her social calendar is full (she’s out of the house more than she’s here), we have to constantly lean on her about applying for a part-time summer job (as she has the spending habits of a Kardashian), she hasn’t scheduled any college tours or filled out any applications as of yet (although she has straight “A”s). She is obsessed with obtaining her license (to give her even more mobility), and her inter-relationship dramas play out like an episode of “Days of Our Lives”.  It’s exhausting for her mother and I – but she makes it work for her.

Lastly, yes  – sibling rivalry is real.  My brother experienced it as a younger man, constantly being told to get his act together at home.  Good Lord, when he went off to college (the same one I was at), not only did they put him in my old dorm, they placed him in the exact room I had just vacated the semester before (he soon found another college).  I was a bit jealous of him as well for a time.  I was “following all of the rules” and he was following his dreams.  In time, these petty distractions melt away.  These days, I look forward to my phone calls and conversations with my brother, and we are still on the same wave length (he makes me laugh harder than almost anyone I know, and only we understand some of our obscure, childhood references).  Our talks are jovial and heartfelt.

I hope my daughters will eventually fall into this sort of relationship as well.  Alas, for now, it’s like having General Lee and General Grant at the dinner table every night.  No matter what one says, the other is ready to march their troops on the capitol over the slightest offense.  Here’s hoping they one day meet at Appomattox and get on with the Reconstruction efforts.

Siblings – let me hear from you!  Is my theory on point?  Am I totally wrong?  Drop me a line in the comment section and let me know.